Beyond Lies
by TheDarkRose22
Summary: Roxanne Millers, a strange girl from age seven. From being transported to a different world, to becoming an outcast. Well, more of an outcast then she already was. Everything changes, though, when Shield recruits her. Now, she has to fight for the world, and deal with a strange feeling every time she see's a certain soldier. Captain/OC, Loki/OC, Hulk(Banner)/OC. Rating can change.
1. Chapter 1

My head screams "no" as I walk into the bar. The air is thick with the smell of alcohol. But I need this, I need to get away. Everything's gone, nothing really matters anymore. And yet, still, I feel the need to make myself drink until I pass out.

I am wearing a flowing black dress with a black leather jacket to cover up my... mutation. I am wearing black boots that cut off just below my knees. I carry a black clutch, in it everything any person needs to ruin my life, as if it were possible to make it any worse. The necklace that I wear every day, a triangular vile with a skull topper, all tinted pink gold, in it containing the only potion ever made that keeps me alive, hits my chest slightly with every step I take. My hair is a bit of a mess, just down, but more like a bed head then anything.

I make my way to the only unoccupied table. Some slutty waitress comes up to me after a few minutes and asks me what I want to drink. Maker's 46 bourbon whiskey, the whole bottle. Yet again, my brain screams at me, telling me to stop this before it gets bad. I push the thoughts into the back of my brain, and pour the first glass. I down it without hesitation but the first thing I want to do is rush into the bathroom and spit it all out. I've never been one for drinking whiskey straight, or even whiskey at all for that matter.

I feel someone tap me on the shoulder and I drowsily turn around. There's a man standing behind me, giving me a sly grin. He looks shady, his face not shaved so he has a scruffy beard that looks partially like a homeless persons. His whole complexion screams rapist, to be blunt. That's the kind of people you get around here, though.

"Hey baby, hows 'bout you an' me find a room," the man says, grabbing my shoulder. I try not to wince. His voice is raspy and deep.

"I'd rather find a grave," I growl. His rip on my shoulder tightens, making thoughts shoot through my brain. I no longer feel drunk, depressed, or drowsy. I now feel awake and ready to kick someone's ass.

"Wrong answer," the man growls. He pulls me up by the shoulder and turns me around. I can smell the beer resonating off him. His breath smells like rotten cabbages and cigarettes. I can feel him coming closer. He tries to grab at my dress as he closes in for a kiss.

My fist collides with his jaw and sends him whirling backwards in shock. I move my hands behind me to grab the bottle of whiskey. I put the stopper in it and I turn to walk out. I can hear an angry snort from behind and I spin around just in time to see the man charging towards me. I duck from his frustrated swing of arms and I slam the bottle into the small of his back. The whiskey bottle is made out of thick glass, so it doesn't break, but it has the man ending up face flat on the floor. He tries to stand up so I grab a stool and smash it over his head. He is officially out cold as I walk out. A huge fight erupts behind me, but I don't care, I just need some peace and quite.

The freezing air bites at my exposed skin. I cross my arms over my chest after zipping up my jacket, keeping the alcohol close to me. My head is lowered against the wind. Damn me for not caring enough to bring a warmer jacket. The wind against my ears makes me feel as though a whistle is just constantly being blown at my face.

"That was some nice fighting back there," a male voice says from behind me. I sigh and growl, turning around. I come face to face with a man in a suit. Another man stands behind him in a leather jacket, partially like mine, except his is a tan. The one standing closest to me has gray-ish black thinning hair. He is about as tall as me but he has a sharp, businesslike face. The man with the leather jacket on has a kinder face with blond hair. I can definitely tell that he is taller then me and by the looks of his build, he's very muscular.

"Not doing any demonstrations, boys," I say, smiling slightly, "sorry. Come back later."

"Roxanne Millers, I'm agent Coulson," the dark-haired man says, pulling out a badge and flashing it quickly, "I work for Shield. I'm sure you know what that is."

I growl. I'm not going to be recruited for some experimentation. "Not interested." I turn back around.

"Roxanne, the safety of the world is at stake here."

"The world can be saved without me. Go find Thor."

"Thor's not here, but his brother is."

"Loki? Loki. He's here, on Earth."

"Yes, Roxanne. Loki is on Earth." Coulson states this as though its obvious.

"Why the hell aren't you looking for him then?! Look at me! I'm a mess! How the fuck am I going to save the world like this?!"

"We came here to recruit you, not because we have to have you, but because we have faith in you." The agent puts a calming hand on my shoulder. "Roxanne. I know what you've been through. I can't imagine the pain you have right now, but we need you. Earth needs you. You have an amazing ability. You're one of the very few people on this planet who know Loki on a personal level. Know his mind, we find where he is."

" I don't have an ability. It's a curse that makes me hide myself wherever I go. Plus, Anna knows more about Loki then anyone, even me. We weren't the ones who talked, I was friends with Thor," I sigh. Anna, my best friend and long time companion. She knows everything there is to know about Loki.

"We've got her. She was willing to come help us." My head shoots up, glaring at the Shield agent.

" Then why the hell do you need me, then," I ask, getting angry.

"Because you are one of the most amazing human beings on the entire planet. Even gods are impressed by you. The world can't be saved without you to help," Coulson states.

"Now you're just trying to flatter me. Who's the big guy," I ask, getting a little bit less angry. I nod to the tall, blond man.

"Sorry," the blond man startles before walking towards me and sticking his hand out to shake mine. I take his hand and glare. "Steve Rogers." I chuckle at the name. "What's so funny?"

"I'm sorry, that's just an unfortunate name," I giggle slightly.

"Why," Steve asks.

"Well, it's just that Steve Rogers is the same name as Captain Ameri- wait..." I look from Coulson and back to Steve in dawning realization. "No. No, no, no, no, no... Coulson? This isn't actually... it can't be... can it?"

"I am Captain America," Steve states simply.

"Oh," I sigh, feeling a bit faint. I remember studying about him in history class. "I'm sorry, it's just that, you shouldn't be this young. In fact, you shouldn't even be here."

Steve opens his mouth to speak but Coulson butts in. "It's a long story. Are you in or not, Roxanne?"

I stare at Steve for a few seconds and then I turn to Coulson, handing him my bottle of whiskey.

"I'm in."

* * *

**Alright, I hope you guys like this. Now, I also have the outfit of what Roxanne is wearing on my profile at the very bottom. I am only doing this for a few of the chapters, so, I would love some reviews.**


	2. Chapter 2

***Hides behind wall of absolute shame...**

**That is me... trying my hardest to say I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take this long, but first my laptop needed updating, and then it broke down and flipped out. Thankfully, nothing major was deleted. I understand that most of you... probably more like all of you, hate my guts. Don't kill me, please. I'M GETTING ON WITH THE STORY, I PROMISE! Okay, so, now that my sobbing apology is done, I will let you read the story. One last thing, there's another outfit, so, my profile, love ya!**

** I head back to my apartment, my head spinning with thoughts. I just agreed to help save the world, shook hands with ****_the_**** Captain America, and officially decided to give up my drinking addiction. ****_What the hell is wrong with me?_**** After I head in, I start packing. I have until tomorrow morning and then Agent Coulson and Cap-****_Steve _****come and pick me up. Just one backpack filled with simple needy crap will do.**

** I sigh, collapsing onto my bed, not bothering to take off my shoes or dress off. Thoughts rushing through my head give me a raging headache and I can feel a pain settling in my stomach. Before I can undo the stopper in my necklace, I begin to shake uncontrollably. Of course with my drinking I forgot to take it. As I take control of my body, I grab the stopper and pulling it out of the vile, I put a drop of the thick blue liquid onto my tongue. I shutter at the taste and my body convulses before calming down, as if none of that just happened.**

** That's the pain I endure once a week, and I must take the potion, or I will die or radiation poisoning. It all started when I was seven. Anna and I were playing in a field by our house, escaping the tyrannical rule of the orphanage we lived in. It was just like any other normal day, until something completely out of normal happened.**

**_ "Annie, c'mon," I whine as Annie stays by the edge of the field. "You gotta come with me, I can't play all by myself."_**

**_ "Fine," Annie states, "but if we get in trouble, it's your fault."_**

**_ "Gotcha," I laugh and we run out onto the field, today pretending that we're knights, fighting off the dragon. Our laughs echo through the empty field and we run to our hearts delight. But not too soon after we started running, we stop. Coming across a peculiar circle in the middle of the field, we look around it, trying to understand the complexities._**

**_ "Maybe it's from a UFO," Annie inquires, "what do you think, Roxie?"_**

**_ "I dunno," I sigh, "maybe just some silly game someone's playing. Or maybe..."_**

**_ "Dragons," Annie breathes out, finishing my sentence. We laugh and jump into the circle, twirling around, hoping for a strange miracle. What does happen next is something we had never thought of._**

**_ A flash of light surrounds us and I feel my body being stretched, as if sucked through a vacuum. What lasts for seconds impacts us hugely and we fall as our feet hit solid ground. I only have a moment to take in the magnificent surroundings of us and a giant of a man walking up to us before I pass out._**

** The next thing I knew I was in a hospital, being taken care of like never before. We soon after found the brothers Thor and Loki, and I became fast friends with Thor. Anna, soon after, became ****enamored with Loki. We lived there for years, growing up with our friends and around the age of fourteen, something strange started happening to the both of us. We got stronger, and not slightly, but to the point of God-like strength. We also formed mutations... I guess you could say. Anyway, they don't matter now. We soon went back to Earth after that. Living as outcasts, runaways. No more orphanage, we took care of ourselves. I was given the potion that would help save my life and we taught ourselves how to use the mutations to our advantage. It proved to be difficult, but it's helped the both of us out in the long run.**

** I let my body relax, thinking about all the memories. Loki was a nice kid, the reasons behind his change in thought confuse me. But for now, all I want to do is sleep. Drifting off, I pass out without having a care in the world.**

** I wake up the next morning to the smell of pancakes. They sure do smell great and I haven't woken up to that glorious smell in a while. As a matter of fact, I haven't been woken to that smell since...**

** My eyes fly open and I search the room for my gun. Finally finding it in my half unconscious state, I stumble out of my bedroom door and to the kitchen to find someone cooking there. And not just any someone, but a tall, blond male human being cooking god damned ****_pancakes_**** in my god damned ****_kitchen_****. As I walk around, I find that it's Captain America, Steve Rogers is ****_fucking cooking breakfast_****, and I have no idea why.**

** So far, he hasn't noticed I'm awake, so I sneak back to my room to get changed into something else. Pulling my jacket and dress, I stretch out before choosing a pair of light blue, torn up jeans with white polka dots on them. Then, grabbing an American flag tank top, I fold back up again. Putting on jean shirt that I've turned into a tie together jacket. Putting it all together, I grab some red flats and tie my hair up into a messy bun. Letting a pair of aviator sunglasses dangle in my hand, I look in the mirror in my bathroom.**

** Now this is more like me. Yesterday was an anniversary. Today, back to my no dresses, just some simple, kick ass patriotic outfit policy. Shoot me, I have an uncompromisable love for the U.S.A. Most of my friends are in some form of the military. It's just been engraved into my brain. Plus, putting on a British shirt while Captain America is cooking for me probably would not be my best idea on the entire planet.**

** I walk out and set my sunglasses on the table before walking into the kitchen. He's wearing the same thing as last night, polished pair of shoes with a nice pair of jeans with a tan leather jacket. But today, he has the jacket unzipped to reveal a plain white t-shirt that accentuates his perfectly toned muscles. The idea of running my hands over- no, damn it. I should not be thinking about this. ****_Why am I thinking about this?_**

** "Ms. Millers," Steve says with a nod, not looking up from his cooking. I am shaken out of my mind battle a bit too quickly for my liking.**

** "Whoa, hey, if I'm going to call you Steve then no 'Ms. Millers' for me," I smile at him and I can see a blush rise on his cheeks, "just call me Roxie."**

** "Alright M-Roxie," Steve corrects himself and I lean on the counter next to him. "I like your apartment, it's almost like walking back in a time machine." I look around and find the vintage posters of Rosie the Riveter and buying War Bonds. Even a vintage radio rests in the back of the living room.**

** "What can I say," I turn back to him, "I've always had a thing for vintage. Born in the wrong time era." Sighing, I continue. "Which brings me back to my first thought. How did you get in here and ****why are you making breakfast?"**

** "Coulson got a hold of a key to your apartment and he was getting impatient waiting for you. I just thought that it could be a nice change to figure out how to cook some pancakes." I smirk, looking at the pan, which was a bit of a mess. Hell, the whole kitchen was a bit of a mess. "I just don't seem to be doing as well as I hoped. Sorry."**

** "No apologies needed. Any man who even tries to be a gentleman during this day and age should never have to apologize. Plus, I'm not that great of a cook, either." We catch each others eye and we share a smile. "So, move over, and we'll see how much better I can do."**

** After many mishaps including Steve cleaning some pancake batter off of the ceiling and me almost breaking a leg slipping, we got about six pancakes each. Sitting down at the dining room table, trying to catch our breath from laughing so hard.**

** "I haven't laughed that hard in a long time," Steve sighs, eating his pancakes.**

** "Same here," I look down at my plate, "I'm sure you beat me in that contest, though." Steve does a halfway nod and looks at me smiling.**

** "Okay, I need to know, what can you do?"**

** "Beg pardon?"**

** "I mean, what's your power? You must have something pretty incredible, Coulson couldn't stop talking about you." I nod and stand up, walking over to the place where my living room meets the bedroom hallway and I take off my jean jacket. Stretching out my wings, I see Steve's jaw drop and he walks over to me. Immediately he centers his attention on the wings.**

** I already have them memorized. Feathers that are mostly white, with a speckling of black and light brown mixed in. Then on the edges a bit of a darker brown. And on the bottom edge of each feather, there's black lining them.**

** "And besides the wings, I have the strength of a freaking lieger," I smile. I can feel Steve hesitate at the reference so I explain myself. "It's a mix between a tiger and a lion." Steve shrugs and goes back to looking at my wings.**

** "So, you're an angel." I blush at the comment but shake my head.**

** "If you can an angel a drunk, depressed mutant who's signature hero name is the Assassin, then sure, I guess I'm an angel."**

** "Ma'am, I can tell an you that I have never seen another human being with wings, so to me, you're an angel." I can feel heat rush to my face and I glance at Steve, who's grinning sheepishly.**

** "Well, we should probably get going, or else Coulson's gonna have a cow." I fold up my wings and grab the backpack.**

** "I understood that reference." I smirk at Steve and we walk off. ****_If he's going to be there, maybe the whole thing won't be so bad._**


End file.
